


Horsing Around

by Lurkylurk



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: And a pinch of crack, And is a bit of an ass, F/M, Fluff, Post QI/Vale, Sansa knows how to tame grumpy beasts, Stranger ships it, on the road
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-04 02:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12761073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurkylurk/pseuds/Lurkylurk
Summary: In which Sansa is bored on the road and gets ideas, Stranger shit-talks his Master and Sandor realises he's getting soft.





	Horsing Around

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to get angsty, but it turned all fluffy instead. Not sure what happened. Inspired by a pic on tumblr which I sadly can't find anymore.
> 
> I'm working on more serious sansan stuff right now but I got stuck, so I wrote this bit of nonsense for a change. 
> 
> I was hesitant to post this since Stranger demanded his own POV in between, but screw it! Enjoy!

Sansa was bored out of her mind.

She sat idle at the little creek she and her companion had made camp at to rest for a day. Sandor had left hours ago to hunt their dinner, leaving her to entertain herself.

He was hesitant to leave her side, but there was only so much dried meat and cheese she could stomach. It took a lot of time and a heated argument to convince Sandor that she was safe here. She was in his warhorse's company after all, and no one would dare to come too close to a giant, rampant stallion trained for the battlefield. At that he had finally relented, although she was sure he would still hurry back as fast as possible.

The thought made her smile. He had always been protective,  but she felt it had increased tenfold ever since they met again in the vale.

And so she sat here in the grass, watching the water flow by while the birds chirped up in the apple tree above. She had already mended all the clothes that needed mending, plucked raspberries and, unlucky as she was, scratched herself on their thorns until she bled. Thankfully she had enough spare cloth from her old dresses to take care of the little wound. She searched for some herbs as well, the smell conjuring dreams of juicy venison and lemon cakes for dessert, making her yearn for home.

Stranger nickered, greedily biting at the lush grass around her. The fearsome beast had warmed to her with time and while Sansa had to keep her safe distance from the courser before, she was now able to touch him after she bribed him with treats.

Sandor had been angry at first, said she was reckless to treat Stranger like a mere pet as he was trained to bite and kick everyone but him, a living weapon, but that did not stop her. She simply had to win Stranger's trust and teach him some manners. _Just like I keep trying with Sandor,_  she laughed to herself.

Sansa stood, brushed off her skirt and searched the ground for fallen apples to give to Stranger. Finding none she eyed the gnarly tree.

Climbing into trees had always been Bran's and Arya's peculiarity - Sansa the young princess was too much of a lady for dirty things like that, but that was a long time ago. She had to let go of a lot of things in the past years, but still she was thankful when she spotted a big apple hanging low and all she had to do was jump up. After a few unsuccessful tries she managed to grab the branch, pull it down and pick a few ripe fruits while Stranger already trotted closer, impatient.

"Here Stranger, for you," she said softly and held one in her palm, stretching her arm as far as possible to the horse so she would not make him nervous. She still had to be careful.

Stranger blew air through his nose and snatched the apple from her hand. She almost jumped in victory; he did not even try to bite off her fingers while taking the fruit this time. Progress!

The apple was gone in one bite. Sansa picked up the other ones and dared to walk right up to Stranger, with his ears perked up and his nostrils flared, but he calmed when he noticed the fruits in her hands. By the time he ate up the last one she was able to touch him freely. "What a good boy you are. Now what do I do with you?" She mused, gently stroking Stranger's neck.

She would like to relief him of his saddle for a while, but Sandor had told her he needed to stay saddled as long as she was alone out in the open and that he would take care of him once he returned.

Her eyes fell on his mane. It had grown quite long in the past weeks; Sandor would probably cut it short soon. She understood the long mane was a danger and a nuisance in battle, but she still thought it a pity as it was so beautiful and silky.

 _Maybe if I plait it, he won't have to cut it off at all,_  she thought. Determined, she got to work.

Stranger snorted.

After she finished Sansa gave the horse a firm pat, just like Sandor always did. Three thick, perfect plaits now adorned his neck. She was satisfied with her work and hoped Sandor would not be too angry with her, and even if he was, he was never angry at her for long. It used to frighten her, but she soon realised there was no bite to his bark when it came to her.

The sun had barely moved during her handiwork, so she sighed and decided to brush Stranger down while she was at it, as the courser seemed to be completely at ease around her now. "Such a good boy," she praised him, careful at his backside lest he decide to kick after all.

Bored again she contemplated Stranger's saddle and wondered if he was bored as well from all this waiting. Maybe she could ride a bit around the meadow and explore her surroundings. It was safest to do it atop Stranger, was it not?

She was not sure if she would be able to mount the courser on her own, however, as he was much bigger than any of the ponies and horses she rode at Winterfell and King's Landing. _A big horse for a big man,_ she guessed.

Sandor had always lifted her up on Stranger's back before. The thought of sitting on him on her own intimidated her - her head did not even reach his withers! _Just like my head barely reaches Sandor's shoulders,_ she mused, once again intrigued by all the similarities between animal and rider. Big, black hair, mean temper - she wondered what else Sandor and Stranger may have in common, but she abandoned that thought at once when she remembered how Randa had once compared certain qualities of horses and men. No one was around, but still Sansa blushed a bright red. She shook her head and put her foot into the stirrup before the courage left her.

Stranger danced to the side at her first unsure tries to hoist herself up. It was not until she put all her weight into the stirrup that she managed to reach the saddle. The courser calmed soon and shook his head, going back to munching on the lush grasses below as if he did not even notice her weight.

Now that she reached her first goal she had to face the next problem - how was she supposed to steer this black beast? She knew Sandor always used his thighs to control Stranger's movements - something about free hands in a battle - but surely he had learned to be steered by his reins as well.

After a few moments of getting used to each other she tried the reins. "Go slow, please," she begged him. And he did.

Soon they were trotting through the green, Sansa's laughter echoing through the meadow.

 

×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×

 

For the longest time, Stranger only had one friend, and that was Master. He always took good care of his needs and liked to talk to him, even if he did not want anyone else to know. Stranger liked Master's strong hand and soothing voice, he was nothing like the mean man he grew up with.

Stranger used to hurt anyone coming close to him. All humans were bad in his eyes, but then Master took him away and was nice to him; now he was even allowed to kick the bad humans, and what more would he want?

He quickly realised that he, in turn, was also Master's only friend.

But then the sweet little human happened. Stranger did not know where she came from, all he knew was that one day she and master both jumped on his back - did they not know how bloody heavy they were? - and asked him to run as fast as he could. As if he could run that fast with two meatbags sitting on him.

At first he did not like the little one, but Master liked her very much, he could smell it, even though he was angry at her a lot. Humans were strange. Maybe that is why Master called him Strange-er, though he did not think he was that much stranger than Master.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the little one. Master had entrusted him with protecting her, what a great honor! His chest swelled with pride. The little one - Sansa - gave him apples again. Master never gave him that many treats at once and for no reason. He liked her very much as well, he decided.

Sansa started fumbling with his mane and he enjoyed her gentle touch. Master taught him to not let anyone touch him, but this was his 'little bird', so it must be alright for her to come close. Her hands were so soft. He would tell Master how good they felt, maybe he would finally ask her to touch him as well. He snorted. As if Master had the guts to do that. He acted like a bloody gelding around her.

She climbed on his back and since she was much lighter than Master, he did not mind. He might as well take her out on a run, he started to become restless anyway.

 

×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×÷×

 

"Bloody hells," Sandor muttered as he slung the dead hare over his shoulder. It took him way too long to find something to eat. He had a bad feeling leaving the little bird alone in the first place, and his unease had only grown with every passing minute. Raiders, Shadowcats, even falling and breaking her pretty little neck - the possibilities his mind sifted through were endless. He did not doubt that Stranger would protect her if it came down to it, but he would not rest until his little lure for trouble was back in his sight. Sandor did not pluck her from the vale for her to die on the road, under his watch. The thought of any man but him coming too close to her made his sword-hand itch.

He just hoped that Sansa did not get any stupid ideas while she was alone. Still he almost ran back to their camp, eager to calm his nerves as he pushed through the thicket towards their little hideout at last.

What he stumbled upon had his breath catching in his throat: no one was in sight. No Sansa, not even his horse, and their bags still lay under the apple tree Sandor had tied Stranger to. His hand instinctively went to the pommel of his sword.

"Little bird?" He called out. No answer. Where had she gone? Something was wrong, otherwise Stranger would not be gone as well.

He threw the captured hare down near their fireplace of last night. "Stranger! To me!" He rasped after a minute of silence. His horse would come if he was in earshot.

Still, silence.

Sandor looked around and spotted a piece of cloth near the creek. Dark spots of blood were dried on it. He knew it was a bad idea to leave the girl alone! Familiar anger swelled in him, but this time at himself - he should have refused to go, no matter how sweet she pleaded and looked at him with doe eyes.

"Seven hells, Sansa."

After what felt like a lifetime of searching their camp, and what surely reduced _his_ lifetime, he heard movement nearby and stalked the sound until he came across a clearing. He prepared for a fight, but what he saw had his jaw drop and his blood boil at the same time.

There was Stranger for sure, his black beast unmistakable; on top of him Sansa, her chiming laugh reaching his ears. She was a beautiful sight to behold. Her hair had reverted to her natural auburn color, he noticed, and the worn out garments she wore did little to hide the curves of her body.

Stranger was throwing his head as if he had not been able to run free in weeks instead of carrying them both every day. Sansa seemed to have trouble holding on from time to time, but it was obvious they were both having... fun. Still, did she not know how dangerous this was?

"What in the seven hells is going on here?"

Sansa's head whipped around and her eyes widened when she spotted him. Stranger slowed to a stop and, to his credit, looked somewhat guilty. Well, as guilty as a horse could look.

"Have you gone daft, girl? With the noise you're making everyone within a league will know we're here!" Sansa's smile dropped and he felt a twinge of regret at wiping the happiness off her face. His eyes fell to his horse. Were those... plaits? Had she _plaited_  his _courser?_  Sandor took a deep breath. "Not to mention that you have no control over that horse, do you want to get trampled to a bloody pulp?"

She looked truly upset now, so he tried to calm himself and control his mouth for once. "Come down now, back to the nest with you."

He turned around, expecting her to follow.

"Sandor?" When had she become so familiar with him? He had trouble remembering the last person that called him by his first name.

The anger drained out of him on its own when he saw how she bit her lip. He did not remember her having that habit in King's Landing and it was bound to drive him crazy one of these days. He sighed, "...Yes, little bird ?"

"Uhm... could you help me down, please?"

He tried, but he could not hide the amusement in his voice when he answered, "How did you even get on that horse in the first place?"

"I bribed him so he would let me touch him," she huffed. "He's not as mean as he wants others to think."

Shaking his head without comment he walked over to her, letting her down gently when she almost jumped down from the saddle. She trusted him to catch her without hesitation, and it surprised him every time.

He let his hands linger on her hips far too long, but before he could force his hold to loosen she lifted her head, took a deep breath and spoke softly, "I'm truly sorry, Sandor. I thought it safest to stay with Stranger but did not think of all the dangers. I won't do it again."

Her meek little voice did things to his chest. He was getting soft.

"It's alright girl, enough of your chirping," he rasped, and he must have gone mad for a second because he added gruffly, "ask me next time, and don't do it when I'm not with you."

He kept the fact that he would not leave her out of his sight again to himself.

It took a moment for his words to sink in, but when they did her face lit up with the brightest smile, which was worth the madness in his mind. "I will."

The moment stretched on until Sandor finally managed to let go of her. He was about to lead her back to their camp when his horse made his presence known, apparently not fond of being ignored for so long. Stranger snorted - And knocked his massive head straight into Sansa's back, causing her to lose her balance and fall into him. He caught her before she fell, glaring daggers at the culprit over her head.

"You alright, little bird?"

Her face was buried in his chest, his arms still around her, and the shaking of her shoulders had him worried until he realised she was not crying, but laughing. Had she gone mad now, too? There must be something in the air.

"Yes, quite alright."

He reluctantly let go of her, but not before giving her a squeeze, smirking at her little squeak. It was impossible to resist, her propriety be damned. She was blushing a bright red when he let her go.

"Let's get back. I've caught us something proper to eat."

Stranger shook his head and followed.

**Author's Note:**

> I write for fun and never intended to post my works, but I have been convinced (forced) by a friend on tumblr. English is not my first language, I hope it's not too noticable. Thanks for reading!


End file.
